Eleven>>>The Irony
I think that I have an overly strong sense of empathy. My proof? Here I am, standing in the middle of the college store, holding a broken Nestle Crunch bar in my hand. In all truthfulness, I hate broken candy bars. It just ruins part of the thrill of a candy bar. It is automatically less enjoyable because of the handicap. But I cannot put it back once I picked it up. It felt that feeling of ecstasy. It was chosen. It would fulfill its life purpose. For me to notice its handicap and break it’s little heart…well I just can’t do that. I’m a sick and twisted person, I know.
I wander over to the cashier to pay for my candy bar, glancing at the People magazine while I wait. I’m almost about to open it to the article about Mary-Kate Olsen (I’ve always been an Olsen Twin’s fan to be quite honest) when it’s my turn to pay.
“89 cents is your total.”
Fuck. I feel in my back pocket of my jeans for my wallet. No wallet. Probably left it in the car a hike away. Not only is this embarrassing, but I have to put the poor little candy bar back. I make a shocked look at the cashier. “Crap…I don’t know where my wallet is. Heh, can I do an IOU?”
She looks at me, the farthest thing from amused.
A voice from behind me pipes in. “Add his candy to what I’m getting. I’ll cover it.”
Who is this benevolent soul!? I turn and look at her as she sets her Gatorade and pack of gum down for the girl to scan.
“Hello Harper,” I tell her, smiling brightly at her and taking my candy bar as she pays.
“Taylor,” She says to acknowledge me. I knew she’d learned my name easily.
We walk out together. I guess I ought to thank her huh? “Thanks for helping me out.”
“Just do it for someone else some day.”
I rip open the silvery wrapper and start munching on the candy bar. “Alright, I will,” I assure her. As we walk in the same direction I look at all the kids gathered on the center green of the college campus. “What’s this all about?” I ask her, nodding at the masses of college kids.
Before she can answer me I hear someone on a microphone yell out to me. “Guy in the purple shirt!”
Did he have to point that out?? I glance at my shirt and then at everyone else to make sure I’m the only one. He said guy. And purple shirt. Of course I’m the only one.
“Yeah you! Come throw! One dollar for five balls.”
I raise an eyebrow at the dunking booth by all the kids and keep on walking with Harper, ignoring it.
“Show your girlfriend how strong you are buddy!”
Harper stops and looks at the dunking booth, suddenly laughing. I see an evil grin pass across her face as stops walking. She speaks quietly to me. “Yeah, show me how strong you are buddy. I dare you. I’ll even cover your ass again with a dollar bill.”
I am never one to turn down a dare. So the second the words came out of her mouth I was walking over to the group of people. She pays, holds my Crunch bar, and they put the bucket of balls in front of me.
“You have five go’s,” Some college girl tells me, taking the dollar from Harper.
“Wait, you’re a Hanson aren’t you?” I examine the boy inside the dunking booth and pick up a ball. Note: I’ve never been good at baseball. Question to ponder: So why am I doing this again?
“I didn’t know there were TWO hanging around this campus. You’re even fruiter than your brother you know.”
And I’m off! I start chucking the balls at the little red button- the little red button that represents every bit of dignity I have. The fifth ball comes close, but not close enough. The boy is laughing and I turn to Harper. “Give them another dollar.” I say to her.
She laughs and takes my arm. “I think you’ve had enough for now.”
“No seriously, give them another dollar.”
“Give us another dollar so your boyfriend can miss some more!”
I remind myself that is the job of the person inside the tank- to harass you.
She pulls me away with her and hands me my candy bar back. “Here. Indulge.” I sigh and watch my feet as we walk replaying the last couple minutes in my mind. Did I think I was going to win? Good things don’t happen to me too often. But I had a feeling this was going to turn out well. I pictured him falling into the water in the middle of an insult and everyone cheering for me. I’d laugh and walk away haughtily. Instead he’s dry and laughing as I walk away mortified. Funny- the irony of life.
I notice we’re both walking back to the same parking lot from the other day. As we get closer to our cars I speak up. “What’s your schedule for the rest of the day?”
“Why?” She says quickly and defensively. I really must seem like an asshole.
“I don’t know. I don’t have much to do and…I’m probably going to be pretty bored” I crumple the silvery wrapper and shove it into my pocket.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Can you just tell me what you’re doing today?”
I didn’t even notice until now that I followed her over to her car. She unlocks it and looks at me, squinting from the sun. “I have a class at 3. That’s in an hour. Other than that…I don’t have much to do either.”
“Good. Lets do something…as friends you know. Go to a movie, drive around, I don’t know. Something.” I don’t want this girl to think I want her. Because I don’t. Not only is she not my type but I’m avoiding dating at all costs right now. “How about I’ll pick you up at your…house or dorm room or…”
“Apartment. And doesn’t that seem kind of date-like?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Would it make you feel better to pick me up?”
“Maybe,” She replies quickly and opens the car door.
“Well okay then. You can pick me up. At…?” I notice a notebook on her passengers seat and take it upon myself to lean in her car and pull it out.
“At five…what are you doing?” She eyes me.
I open to a blank page and scribble down my address, writing out simple directions. She reads over my shoulder as I write. When I’m finished I flip the pages of her notebook closed. I notice the front of it says “Journal” and smile evilly at her.
“I know what you’re thinking. Just give it back.”
I turn my back to her and open it up. I feel her reach around me and snatch the journal back. “Do you have any manners?!”
I grin at her and take my keys out of my pocket. “It might be hard to believe, but you know I do open doors and pull out chairs.”
“You’re right.” She says cynically. “It is hard to believe.”
I smile wider and stride over to my car. “Enjoy your class!”
“Enjoy your boredom!”
I wave to her. I get into my car and turn on the music. My boredom. The story of my nonexistent life.